


A Pair Of Queens

by leiascully



Category: The Fall (UK 2013), The X-Files
Genre: Episode Related, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-26
Updated: 2015-09-26
Packaged: 2018-04-23 12:13:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4876384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leiascully/pseuds/leiascully
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Scully goes home with Stella Gibson instead of Ed Jerse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Pair Of Queens

**Author's Note:**

> Timeline: AU from "Never Again"  
> A/N: For mulderswaterbed.  
> Disclaimer: _The X-Files_ and all related characters are the property of Chris Carter, 1013 Productions, and Fox Studios. No profit is made from this work and no infringement is intended.

Scully is floating in a wash of warmth, blissfully strung out on pain, when the door jingles open. Cold air floods into the tattoo parlor, bringing a skirl of snow with it to sparkle on the grungy linoleum. She gazes at it until a pair of shoes step through the glint, and then she drags her eyes up. It’s a woman in a long coat, pulling off her gloves. She looks familiar, but Scullly’s too dazed to process anything but the hot prickle of the needle on her back.

“Uh, hi,” says Ed in a tone that means Scully probably ought to be paying more attention, if she cares at all that he came in with her.

“Miserable out there,” says the woman. “Mind if I wait in here?” She doesn’t sound like she cares about the answer.

The tattoo artist just grunts, focused on his work. Ed pulls a chair over. “Here.”

“Thanks,” the woman says curtly. 

“You don’t sound like you’re from around here,” Ed says. His body language is open, interested, but she turns away.

“I’m not,” she tells him.

“Are you British?” he asks.

“Are you always this transparent?” the woman asks.

“I’m just being friendly,” he protests. Scully might care, but she’s busy discovering the particular joys of masochism . Better now and here than elsewhere with someone else, she guesses. She doesn’t think Mulder will comprehend why she would do something like this. At least Ed understands the red flicker of the needle, though for him it was a punishment.

“Hello, sweetheart,” the woman says, leaning down. She slips a finger under Scully’s chin. Scully tries to focus. All she can see is blue eyes. “Is he ostensibly here with you?”

Scully shrugs. Her lips part, but she finds she has nothing to say.

“Is this your first time?” the woman asks. “Getting a tattoo?”

“Yes,” Scully says, and it comes out as breathy and husky as if she’s begging the woman to touch her, yes, right there.

“Have you been drinking?” the woman asks.

“I had a little bit earlier,” Scully says. The warmth in her belly has nothing to do with alcohol, at least not any alcohol she’s ever experienced before. 

“Let me guess,” the woman says, turning to Ed. “Get her drunk. Get her inked. Take her home. Get her naked. Oh, I just wanted to see your tattoo, but now one thing leads to the other.”

He sputters. “It wasn’t a plan.”

“Of course it wasn’t,” the woman says. “I think you might as well go.”

“I want to make sure she gets home safely,” Ed says, and the words sound dingy even in the tawdry air of the tattoo parlor.

“I’m sure I said go,” the woman says, and though her voice doesn’t get any louder, there’s an authority in the words that nudges Ed toward the door. 

“Dana, do you trust her?” he asks, one hand on the glass. Scully imagines the way the cold sears through his skin. She looks at the woman, who gazes back at her, steady as a gun.

“Yes,” Scully says. “Goodbye, Ed.”

“I hope you get the tattoo you deserve,” he says, and he’s gone in a whirl of icy darkness. 

“That’s better,” the woman says. “Dana, is it. Do you live around here?”

“I’m here on business,” Scully says. “I’m saying in a hotel.”

“Good,” the woman says. “As am I. Stella Gibson, by the way.”

“Dana Scully,” Scully says. The pain stings through her until it threatens to well over. She can feel her lips trembling. It still feels good, but there’s so much of it.

“I think you and I may have quite a lot of things to talk about,” Stella says. “But for now, do you need a hand to hold?” 

“Please,” Scully says, and Stella clasps her hand firmly. Her fingers are cool and lightly callused, and her grip is effortlessly strong. Scully can breathe again, on top of the deep and glittering well of pain. Stella smiles.

“I remember,” she says, and then stops. “Well. I’ll tell you later. Just hold on.”

Scully holds on, and Stella anchors her.


End file.
